


Show

by ArgentGale



Series: Alien Relations 101 [1]
Category: Star Wars Legends: Thrawn Trilogy - Timothy Zahn
Genre: F/M, Grand Admiral Thrawn puts on a little show, I am so sorry, Masturbation, Xenophilia, here is some trash, how can a blue alien be so damn sexy?, that blue bastard has me smitten, you see something you didn't think you would ever see
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-06
Updated: 2016-11-06
Packaged: 2018-08-29 08:11:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,208
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8482009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArgentGale/pseuds/ArgentGale
Summary: You get a mysterious comm summoning you to Thrawn's personal quarters. Heart in your throat you obey. What you see upon arriving goes beyond your wildest dreams. Oh and his room is really REALLY cold.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Ok so I just had to write this. I have this HC that Thrawn's body temp is really hot. Hot to the point he likes keeping the temp of his ship cold and the temp of his personal living space even colder. This allows for some...interesting imagery. I know..I am sorry. This is just pure trash but I have recently discovered the sexy charms of this blue bastard.

The comm was terse and succinct.  The instructions were very plain. Plain and yet so very…odd.

_“I need to see you in my quarters immediately. Allow yourself in.”_

_For what?  Why?_   Your mind churns as you make your way to Thrawn’s personal living quarters.  This was so…unlike him. So against protocol. 

_Were you in trouble?  Was this an impromptu disciplinary hearing?  Was the punishment so severe he wanted to mete it out private?_

No. 

No that could not have been it.  Your mind quickly reviewed you performance over the past weeks and could not recall a single moment when it had been nothing but exemplary.  Your last review was filled with glowing commendations and merits. 

The quality of your performance was not in question.

_What then?_

There was the admiral’s behavior of late.  Nothing blatant but lately you would catch him watching you.  Not that watching an insubordinate was _that_ out of the ordinary. No it was the _way_ he watched.  The way his gaze held.  It had _weight_ to it.  You could feel it, sending the hairs on the back of your neck prickling on end. When your eyes would catch his (so alien and red and yet so intriguing all the same) your stomach would quiver.  From fear or from fear or from…something else…you weren’t sure.

Something else.

What would that something be?  A flare of cautious attraction?

You laugh softly. _Listen to yourself._ You keep to your own kind. Not that you would ever look down upon those that seek interspecies…relations.  The opportunity just, well, it just never presented itself.  And dallying about with the Grand Admiral, let alone a _Chiss_ Grand Admiral?  _That_ would set too many tongues to wagging.  Besides, you wanted to shine on your own merit. Not by who shared your bed. 

Still, alien or no, Thrawn was very striking in that white uniform, what with that blue skin of his setting of the crisp white. It was a stunning contrast.   And you always admired a man with sharp wit and intelligence, starting back in your earliest days at the Academy.   And the day you found you would be assigned to the _Chimaera_? You wore a grin that refused to leave to the point your friends teased that you had found yourself a rather skilled lover.  

You were so full of pride and determination to prove yourself.  And you felt you had.

At last you find yourself in front of the door to the Grand Admiral’s living space.  You hesitate before punching the keypad to open the door.  Biting your lip you note nerves have given way to curiosity.  Whatever happens, you will face it with a brave face and a strong resolve.

Holding your breath you depress the button to open the door.  It glides open with a soft hiss.

Stepping over the threshold the first thing that strikes you is the cold.  Stars knows Thrawn insists the temperature of the bridge of the _Chimaera_ be kept at an uncomfortable cold levels.  The one time a fellow officer made the mistake of complaining about the chill and how it was insufferable and he could not possibly work in such conditions, Thrawn made it very clear that it was _his_ ship and he would keep the environment to suit _his_ needs.   It seemed the Chiss ran a bit hot thanks to their raging metabolism.  With a racing metabolism, their body temperature was much higher than that of humans.  Indeed on the occasions when you would stand close to the Admiral you could feel his body heat radiating from him as if he were an open brazier. 

As you step fully into the confines of Thrawn’s quarters the cold slaps you hard in the face.  The temperature is so low your breath steams, the vapor pluming and curling into the air with each exhalation.  

 _Stars how does one even…live in this?_   You suppose that to a hot blooded Chiss, this chill is just fine. Comfortable even.

Your flesh prickles with the chill that penetrates your woolen uniform and you rub your arms as you glance about.  You observe the living space is four times the size of yours.  As your eyes scan the dimly lit room, you note that while the living space is larger, it is sparsely furnished.  There are a few plump chairs and stylish chaises.  A low, elegant couch.  A workspace tucked into a corner. You note a few tasteful (and probably incredibly expensive) pieces of art. The floor is bare. And it is cold. So damn cold.  As your breath curls and plumes and you bite your lip. It is way too silent.  It is as if the Admiral is not even there. Cautiously you call out, “Sir?”  To your chagrin your voice wavers just a bit.

You are met with silence and just when you are ready to turn around and leave thinking that there was a bit of miscommunication you hear a soft sound.

Was that a…moan?  

You immediately tense.   _Was he in trouble?  Was that why he summoned you with such urgency?_

You move forward, holding your breath as you take stealthy, measured steps. You are not sure why you are being so silent. It just seems prudent to do so.

Just in case.

You hear another soft whimper.  It is almost as if the cry is being stifled as to not draw too much notice.

Cold forgotten and curiosity piqued you continue your progress towards the rear of the living space.  The door is open and what lay beyond must surely be the admiral’s personal sleeping quarters.

 _Don’t._ Your brain is screaming. Common sense and logic are railing in your head. _Stop. Turn around._

You do not.

You…can’t.

Your feet move on their own accord taking measured, silent steps.  He is there. He _must_ be.

Perhaps he is ill. Perhaps he needs assistance.

But if he is ill why is he calling _you_ and not a medical droid?  You tamp the thought down as you cross the threshold.

Your eyes meet a spacious room, one wall consisting of a large view port allowing a breathtaking of the stars.

A simple dressing table and set of what appeared to be drawers.

A very large bed.

And then you see _him_.

He is not ill.

No, not ill. 

Not in the least. 

You cling to the safety of the shadow as you watch, and try to process, the sight that lay before you. You bring a hand to cover your mouth, to stifle your own gasp.

The Grand Admiral’s pristine white uniform lay in heap upon the floor, black boots listing haphazardly alongside.  Their owner lay sprawled nude atop a rumpled black satin comforter.  And he wasn’t sleeping.

It must be due to shock but your first thought is how very…human…the Chiss are.  Wearing clothing they appeared similar in physiology to humans. Not that you wondered what Thrawn looked like sans clothing.  Seeing him now you note that indeed there is little difference between a Chiss and a human male.

You cannot tear your gaze away as you watch him.  Blue skin shining with sweat, even white teeth biting his full lower lip, those otherworldly red eyes of his hooded as an elegant hand strokes and pulls on an impressively large, and very thick, cock.

_It looks so…human._

Yes it appeared Thrawn possessed a rather impressive cock that in no way appeared alien save for its deep blue color. Your cheeks flush as you note the dewy glisten of precum on the cockhead.   

A low groan of pure ecstasy pulls you out of your study and appreciation of Thrawn’s nether anatomy. His muscles bunch and flex under that tight cerulean skin.  Your mouth runs dry as you watch as his hand glides up that thick shaft, gently palming the glistening head, and then sliding slowly back down only to repeat the process.  There is no sound but the sound of his labored breathing, a soft groan or two, and the whisper of the satin as his body shifts upon the bedding.

Even though you are in the shadows, the Admiral would only have to tilt his head slightly to catch you watching.

Your mind churns with confusion and then a slowly dawning realization spreads its fingers through your guts.

The admiral _summoned_ you here.

He _wanted_ you to see this.  See _him_.

And as this realization dawns you come to yet another realization.  That spark of attraction that you tried to brush off, ignore, flares up into a full blown inferno. Your throat tightens.  Your heart pounds uncomfortably to the point you wonder if he can hear it.  

You _want_ him.

Your tastes have never, _ever_ , skewed outside of your own species.

Until now. 

As you watch his powerful muscles tense and flex underneath that cerulean skin, watch his hands skillfully pull and tease and pleasure that beautiful cock of his, you have never desired anything...anyone...more in your life.

_What would those hands feel like…on you? Would they know what to do? Be as skillful pleasuring you?_

A soft keening sigh escapes your lips. If the Admiral heard you, he gives no indication. He gives another low moan.  You find the sound exotic and it sends a shiver through you.

Thrawn’s strokes grow more furious, faster.  His breath comes in pants as he shifts and writhes in pleasure.  As you watch this powerful man, so vulnerable and engaged in such an intimate act, you feel a dampness gathering between your legs and an insistent, carnal ache begins to stir in your center.

You feel a deep, dark part of you, a part that has been held in check for far too long, awaken.  Stretch out eager to play.   

You need to get out of here before you are discovered.  Before you go down a _very_ dangerous path.

Once again your feet refuse to obey and you stay rooted on the spot, continuing to observe the spectacle before you.

 _How long?  How long until you are discovered?  What will he do?  Stop?  Invite you to join him?_ That last thought sends a warmth right through to your core.

Thrawn must be close to tipping over the edge as his murmurs and movements become more frenzied.  His hips buck as he fucks his own hand and then, with a slight shudder, he cries out sharply.  The steam of his breath unfurls and disperses as thick streamers of white spatter upon his chest and gathers in shimmery pools upon his belly. 

Your knees almost buckle when you hear it is your name that escapes his lips in a strangled cry of passion and want.

Thrawn then sinks back, eyes closed and chest heaving in the aftermath of his exertion.  Finally with a soft shivering sigh he opens his eyes slightly.   They remain hooded and unfocused.  His tongue eases out and lightly licks his lower lip.  He still has in no way acknowledged you and yet you get the sense that he does know you are there.   Knew the very instant you set foot in that room.

Throwing a forearm over his eyes he gives yet another shuddering sigh as the last tremors of his orgasm fade.  He looks so…beautiful laying there.  The blue of his skin setting off the glistening white of his come.  You note tendrils of steam rising lazily from the puddles and pools as it slides its way down his broad chest and taught stomach. It looks otherworldly and forbidden and incredibly erotic.  Idly you wonder what his essence tastes like.

After a few moments he then shifts his position to lay on his side.  He is sheened in sweat.  Although his cock is softening, it is still very impressive as it lays thick against his thigh.  His voice is low and husky as he finally addresses you.

His words surprise you.

“Do you find me…acceptable?”

Acceptable?  Was this what this was?  A…preview of sorts?  A test to see how you felt about his…appearance?

Your tongue is thick and you stumble over your words before managing to stammer, “S...sir, I…forgive me…I…do not understand.  You told me to come in and I…I wasn’t expecting…”

You cringe at your awkward attempt to maintain your dignity.

His low laugh interrupts your tumble of words.   As he eases into a sitting position his lips quirk into a lazy, knowing, smile.

“Of course you weren’t, Sweetling. Forgive me.  You see, I know your tastes are firmly entrenched in your own species.   I merely wanted to see if you were willing to sample other… hmmm…shall we say…flavors.  I hope I haven’t…frightened you off.”  He then slowly rises from the bed and you are struck at how imposing he is.

As he makes his way over to you, you can only dumbly shake your head. 

You can definitely think of one thing you want to sample and you have only just learned it was available on the menu.

Thrawn stops before you. You can feel his heat. Smell him.

He quietly gathers your hands in his, narrows those blood red eyes, and softly murmurs, “Come with me.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Wow! You actually read this? Holy cow. Here...have a cookie. No seriously, thanks for reading this.


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